


Sex: the Gay Kind

by Catgirl9696, Lostinfantasy



Category: Celebrity Fanfiction, Jonas Brothers, Married To A Jonas, One Direction
Genre: Bad But Beautiful Fanfiction, Boy Love, Celebrity Parties, Diabetes, Drunken Heaps, Gay Love, Goths, M/M, One of the Writers of Big Bang Theory, Other, Troll Fanfiction, We might have been high when we wrote this, Yaoi, bad fanfiction, promise rings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 12:24:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3488195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catgirl9696/pseuds/Catgirl9696, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lostinfantasy/pseuds/Lostinfantasy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The shenanigans celebrities get up to when outside the public eye leads two souls to find true love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sex: the Gay Kind

Sex: The Gay Kind

It was the party of the year; he just had to go. Everyone who was anyone would be there and he wanted to be anyone. He had to establish himself as a solo act while the time was ripe, this would only aid process. Or at least it would have, had he been invited.

But no, they had no room on the list for an ex-Disney B-Lister who wasn’t his brother… Kevin.

\------------ ---------------- -------------

Kevin and his wife were the talk of the town because of their E-Network show. They were invited to every party on the west coast and even some in the Midwest.

Joe was gallivanting around New York in the midst of a method acting session, living the life of a homeless vet for a year to prepare for the greatest Broadway role of his career.

Frankie was busy being a teenager. Though he was a little wary of the spotlight after… the accident.

And Nick, well, everyone just hated Nick.

So when the invite for the party of the year arrived at the Jonas Family RV it was obvious who it would be going to.

Nick ran to the mailbox seeing Kevin’s mansion’s silhouette as he crossed the lawn which the RV was always parked on. He grabbed the various envelopes and papers tossing all of them on to the dew-wet grass of the neighbor’s lawn. Some then blew into a puddle on the sidewalk left over from the previous night’s rain.

He eagerly opened the gold-leafed envelope to look upon the invitation that was no doubt for him, only to read the words.

“Kevin Jonas Plus One”

He fell to his knees in his well-fitted Abercrombie and Fitch jeans, bare shoulders chilled by not only the realization of his life’s futility but the cool morning air.

“How could this happen to me” He said balefully.

“I’ve made my mistakes,” he looked at the invite in his hand its’ envelope crushed uselessly on the ground.

“Got nowhere to ru-”

“Honey, that’s copyrighted angst. Get off the grass and come inside. I made pie for breakfast.”

“MOOOOM I HAVE DIABETES GOD!”

“Young man do not take the lord’s name in vain” His father yelled from the back of the RV.

“Sorry, I don’t want to di- I mean, I don’t want any pie… I’m going to my room mom give this to Kevin later” He handed her the _golden_ invite and put up the partitioner to separate his room from the rest of the RV.

\------------ ---------------- -------------

Hours of angst-ing later Kevin came into the RV and kicked over the partition. It was the only way Nick would allow them to enter.

“Hey there little trooper someone heard you had a bad morning.”

“Someone!? Was it the paparazzi!? Are they talking about me again!? What are they saying!? Who leaked it? I want to give them a hug!?”

“N-no, no one leaked anything, no one is saying anything about us, I mean you. Er- sorry?” Kevin said, arms up in a defending fashion as if that would stop the barrage of idiocy.

“Oh… ok. I just thought maybe my invite got lost in the mail and it was gonna be like a national scandal or something.”

“Well that’s what I came to talk about…” He held up a hand to stop Nick before he could start again.

“That is to say, I can’t go to the party because it’s my anniversary so I was going to give my invite to you.”

“YES! YES! YES! THIS IS THE BEST THING EVER! WOO HOO I CAN GET KRUNK AS HECK DO SOMETHING STUPID AND GET SUPER FAMOUS AGAIN WOO HOOOO!”

“Glad you got some good news sweetie but don’t go too crazy now dear.” his mother said from the RV sink where she was washing pie pans.

“Yeah, what mom said, plus I have one condition.” Kevin stated with a serious expression.

“What?”

“You hafta take Frankie as the plus one”

“WHAT? NO! HE’S AWFUL!”

“I know, I know but he has always wanted to go and I said I’d take him, but I can’t, so you will.”

“Ugh no I-” He began to protest but was stopped by his brother’s hands pulling him up from the bed and out of the RV.

“Come on it won’t be absolutely awful, you can’t stay in the Recreational Vehicle all day, it smells like baked goods in here and I know you hate those!”

“That’s because I’m DIABETIC!” He said angrily forgetting his unfinished protests.

\------------ ---------------- -------------

On the night of the event, outside Kevin’s mansion and next to the Jonas Family RV, the family gathers much like a family does before their child’s first prom.

Their mother was reading a horribly smelling postcard sent by Joe to wish Nick luck and recounting the war while apologizing for his in-character drinking problem. Stuck to the back of the postcard with chewing gum was a collection of head shots of Joe complete with ratty, stained jacket and hobo-beard.

After the reading, their father led them in a spiritual meditation and prayer.

Then Nick, with his hair slicked back with more gel and grease than the 50’s in a Versace suit with butt-hugging pants and complete with a matching Chanel tie, followed a more modestly dressed Frankie, who was wearing a suit from Kohls, into the limo.

This night would make or break him as a celebrity.

Before they took off Kevin walked to the window of the limo and gestured for Nick to listen.

“Hey loosen up I thought you were gonna get krunk and end up on the news.”

“Yeah… well… It’ll happen… one day…”

“Hey who knows, maybe this is the day you’ll find your own Taylor Swift to piss off and be infamous for dumping… Like Joe…”

“Well that was kind of un-prompted advice”

“What? Bye!” just as Kevin said that the limo sped away into the night.

\------------ ---------------- -------------

Meanwhile outside the swanky soiree…

It was a dark and stormy night or at least it should have been according to the goth kid attempting to break into the venue.

A guard came around the corner because of the thunder crashing he heard coming from a small amp and an ipod sitting near the trespasser.

“Hey you!” The slightly overweight guard yelled.

“Do you have an invitation?”

“Bite me.” the young man said his back turned to the guard.

“WHY YOU LITTLE- GAHHHH!” The guard grabbed the young man by the shoulder spinning him around to the horrible visage of Weston Coppola-Cage.

\------------- ---------------- -------------

After arriving in their limo Nick and Frankie “the Bonus” Jonas, walked into the party welcomed not by the hosts One Direction, who shared a house to taunt the fan-girls, but instead were met by a drunken Charlie Sheen who was holding one of the writers of the Big Bang Theory hostage and insisting they could make room for him on the show.

“Hey, hey y-, hey you, you kid, you can, you can shee, you can’t be Sheen thas me, but you can see me on thisss guys show-wawa, yeah?” He slurred while holding the writer’s jacket tightly.

“Are you drunk?” Frankie asked with the innocence of a child despite the fact that he was, like, fourteen.

“Who asshked you anywaah, you-er like mah ex-wife, hahaha, basplingy!” He let go of the writer’s jacket as he laughed.

“Oh dear god finally!” The writer ran out the front door as fast as he could, finally free.

“Hash-tig, hash-brown, hash-wag, I’m winning!” Charlie Sheen said as collapsed in a drunken heap.

“God Frankie look what you did now. Why do you ruin everything?” Nick whined as he stormed off, leaving Frankie to call an ambulance for the probably alcohol-poisoned television star.

“Can you send someone to pick up this old drunken man?” Frankie asked the 911-operator.

“Where are you sir-” *click* He hung up sure his good deed was done.

“Hey Nick wait up!” He followed his brother into the larger dining area.

\-------- ------------- ---------

Having given the Security Guard a heart attack that, while non-lethal, would cause him to miss his only daughter’s college graduation because of his impromptu hospital stay, Weston got into the party via a conveniently open window on the first floor. Though he could have just walked through the completely unguarded front door.

“Who the F are you?” One of the members of One Direction asked.

“Do you even have an invitation?”

Weston pulled out a picture of his father, Nick Cage, in a shiny 90’s superman costume complete with a mullet.

“Oh you could have just used the front door, “says Niall, in a very thick Irish accent.

“But then I wouldn’t have been able to give your security guard a heart attack,” he said as he walked away from the blond, who had a horrified look on his face.

He turned back before entering the room, “You should call an ambulance.”

\-------- ------ -------

A while later after the ambulance arrived and collected the security guard and Charlie Sheen’s drunken ass, Niall was once again united with his friends, bandmates, and even brothers but NOT actually lovers. They began playing the best song ever.

Nick stared at the sugary punch longingly from across the room.

“Why don’t you just get some?” Frankie “the Bonus” Jonas asked while dancing like the fourteen year old white boy he is in his suit from Kohl’s.

“I can’t, I have diabetes!” Nick yelled as he stormed off towards the open bar. It was time to make a scene.

“What’da ya want kid?” The grizzly bartender asked.

“A Shirley temple………. On the rocks.” he said while trying to sound like an equally grizzled man from a Noir Detective film.

“Whateva ya say kid.” The bartender said raising an eyebrow at the twenty-something young man before him.

“Thank you very much sir” He said trying to make his voice as rough as sand paper while still being the polite Christian boy his parents raised him to be.

As he sipped his Shirley Temple to ease his now aching throat he watched Frankie do what appeared to be the Chicken Dance to the best song ever which was still being played on the stage.

\------------ -------------- ------------

Weston, on the other hand, had been making his way across the room away from where he had entered. He locked eyes with Ellen DeGeneres, who was eating a banana at a nearby table.

Ellen walked over to Weston and patted him on the shoulder saying, “It’s going to be alright buddy,” before walking over to her wife Portia de Rossi and proceeding to make out with her in the nearby corner.

He made a weird face that if it weren’t for his heavy makeup would make people think of his father. He continued towards the bar to drink away the sorrows he had only just remembered because of Ellen’s comment. Looking over to his right he noticed a grown-ass man drinking a Shirley temple at the bar.

“Who the fuck are you?” Weston asked as he raised the ridge where his eyebrow should have been had he not shaved both of them off for the vine.

“Oh no it’s ghost of Brandon Lee!” screamed Nick Jonas diabetically, while he instinctively reached for his insulin and pointed it in the goth guy’s direction menacingly in an attempt to defend himself.

“Woah little fella what are you doing with that?”

“I’m gonna regulate your blood sugar so back off!”

At that moment the stars aligned and an unknown destiny was fulfilled, Frankie Jonas slipped on a stray banana peel while doing the Electric Slide, despite the fact that they were still playing the best song ever, which promptly stopped in response to his disastrous fall and the whole room fell silent. This still paled in comparison to the accident.

Seeing his brother fall on his face made Nick burst out into a fit of laughter so hard that he completely forgot about the scary gothic man next to him. Until, in the silence of the room he heard another person laughing. That person laughing was Weston Coppola Cage. Their eyes met and they understood each other, a match made in purgatory.

Interrupting this moment One Direction, in an attempt to save their party, made an announcement from the stage.

“Well, I hope you all enjoyed that little diddy, we will now play a song of our own you may have heard it on the radio, it’s called The Best Song Ever.”

As the music began Weston could not take his eyes off of Nick who, as he closely examined him, appeared to be twitching a little bit from suppressing his laughter.

“You wanna get out of here” He said to Nick with a wink. Which given the amount of eyeliner he was wearing impressively didn’t smear with his eyelid movement.

Nick’s hand brushed over the promise ring on his right hand.

“Yes, let’s go. This song blows in comparison to the last one.”

They stepped over Frankie’s unconscious body and headed for the window where Weston entered. Just as they were about to exit they heard the high-pitched squeal of Taylor Swift who was once again frightened by Ellen DeGeneres.

“Ellen!” Portia screamed chastising her for her prank as Taylor Lautner collapsed. Little did everyone know the Taylors were psychically connected and could feel each other’s pain.

They called Nick Cage to pick them in his Buick Grand National. But he was too busy trying to convince Warner Brothers to make him the next Superman. So he sent their family helicopter to pick them up. After a short ride, where they screamed a conversation to each other over the noise of the helicopter, they landed at Weston’s luxurious gothic home.

Nick and Weston sat by the creepy-looking black electric fireplace and drank wine after Nick checked his blood sugar. Then they stared lovingly at each other. Then sex happened, the gay kind.

 

The End

**Author's Note:**

> I'm asexual this is the best sex scene you're going to get. - Catgirl9696
> 
> This is just a Troll-Fic and does not in anyway reflect the actual beliefs of the authors of this fic. - Lostinfantasy


End file.
